House of Mages: Fools of Fortune
by Diaphanous
Summary: Desert dungeons? Rescues on a sky continent? And running around with a dead princess hell-bent on getting revenge for her fallen kingdom? Harry is just having a bad week... Stupid Potter luck. No rest for the wicked, he supposed.


**House of Mages:** **Fools of Fortune**

_**AN:**_ Second one-shot in my House of Mages series!

Disclaimer: If I were a rich girl, tra la la la la! But I'm not because I don't own jack-shit.

_WARNINGS_: Not HBP/DH compliant, definitely EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), During Game (AU in places obviously), language, violence, blood, het, etc. Also, this had no discernable plot other than the fact that Harry's gone and done it again. Thrice-damned Potter luck right there.

_**00000**_

PART ONE: _Break Out_

There were other dungeons worse than this one. Though the stink was spot on, in Harry Potter's opinion. The very stones themselves reeked of despair and hopelessness. Of blood and treachery.

The wizard shook his head at his melancholy thoughts. Now was not the time to give in to his own memories. Instead he indulged in fantasies of killing the little thief that got them into this mess. He glared down at the unconscious youth by his feet. Honestly, the boy hadn't been able to keep his big trap shut. Inviting that Amalia to their party had been a mistake on the Dalmascan's part as well. The heist had certainly gone to hell in a hand-basket.

"One would think you would like for the boy to burst into flames," Balthier, the so-called captain of their three-person pirate crew, stated with a smirk on his lips.

"A mercy for us if he did," Harry replied coolly. He eyed their cell, the bars practically non-existent. "Fran's been gone for awhile."

"Perhaps she's gone to search for a way out?"

Harry scowled darkly at his fellow pirate. "Without me? I think not." He glanced away from Balthier's knowing look. "The Mist roils violently beneath our feet. It's dangerous for her senses." Suddenly a groan interrupted their conversation. The youth stirred from his prone position. Harry nudged the boy with the toe of his dragonhide boot. "Waking, are we?"

Eyelashes fluttered and that too pretty face contorted as the thief reentered the waking world. "Wha?" he said. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He tried to stand only to fall onto his backside. Wide, pale brown eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. "Where… where are we?"

"A prison," Harry spat.

"Dungeon, more like," the younger pirate quipped.

"Same thing."

"As you say, Hadrian." Balthier looked utterly amused. A scream rent through the air then, causing the youngest of the trio to scuttle backward. He let out a girlish shriek when he encountered a dead and partially mummified body of a Bangaa. "Relax; it's just a dead body." The pilot of the Strahl grinned at the outraged glare thrown his way by the Dalmasca youth.

"Cute, Balthier. Real cute." Harry snorted in amusement; the other man's sly expression was so familiar after being with him for two years.

"I do try. Besides which, this isn't even a proper dungeon. Just sealed off the bottom half of Nalbina Fortress, they did. Keep jumping at every little thing and you'll wear yourself out, Vaan. We are not the first they've thrown down here."

"Obviously not." The Magick-user stood up. "I'm going to look for Fran. Try not to garner any more attention, you idiots." He sauntered off into the shadows.

Vaan of Dalmasca whimpered.

000

Harry skirted around the jeering crowd, resisting the urge to stop a poor Bangaa's beating. Fran was top priority for the wizard. The Viera had been gone longer than he liked. He knew that he should have gone with her but the female had shot him down. Harry was not a babysitter for the stupid youth accompanying them. He had his hands full with Balthier's wild character. The brunet sighed harshly through his nose and went down further into the depths of the obviously impromptu dungeons. Shadows and Mist coiled in abandoned corridors; the marching guards easily avoided whilst on nimble feet. He didn't like the fact that their weapons had been confiscated. He was rather attached to his Cypress Pole.

A whisper breathed against his ear had Harry whirling around. He reached out with his senses but he only sensed remnants of Mist and a faint Magick trail left by Fran. Like a blood hound with a new scent, the thirty-three year-old hurried off to find his partner. "Fran," he hissed when he did find her. The Viera looked up from her hiding corner.

"My Harry," she said in greeting. "Look." Fran pointed down to the lower floor. "I sense an exit but…"

"The Mist."

"Yes. There are also strong Magicks locking up the way. My talents are not strong enough and yours would attract too much attention."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the thought. "Very well. We'd best fetch our pair of idiots before they get themselves killed. We'll think of something soon…" He ignored the way Fran was silently laughing at him.

000

"You idiots nearly got yourselves killed!" Harry scolded roughly, dragging out certain sibilant syllables in his anger. Parseltongue had never really gone away even after Voldemort's death and so Harry tended to hiss during times of high emotion. Fran found the phenomena arousing while he was irritated after the fact.

"But-" Vaan started only to stop under his brunet's viridian glare. "Sorry…"

"We must have quiet if we are not to get caught by the Judge Magister," Balthier pointed out from his place in the lead. "Remember, they are the ones who will be opening our escape route. Oh look, what's this? The prison repository of wrested relics and raiments."

"So our stuff is in here?" Vaan asked. He hunched his shoulders up to his ears at the 'no duh' looks thrown his way.

The sky-pirate tossed a Cypress Pole toward Harry and a Silver Bow to Fran. "Yours, I believe." He picked up his Capella, checking over the gun with care. "Vaan, best get your Broadsword as well. No use being without it."

"Why didn't you just give it to me?" the thief whined.

"Are your hands broken?" Harry asked sweetly.

"No…"

"Are your legs broken?"

"No…"

"Then you can get it yourself."

"Now, now, Hadrian," Balthier interjected, laughter in his eyes. "No use taking out your frustration on the boy."

"Come, we must go, lest we get left behind," Fran said. "This way."

000

PART TWO: _Damsel To Rescue_

Ugh, Harry wanted a bath.

The group split apart a few moments ago, their previously newest addition hurrying off into Lowtown with Vaan right behind him. That first meeting with the supposedly dead Basch Fon Ronsenburg had been decidedly strange. My evil twin brother framed me, indeed. Harry shook his head and gestured for Balthier to lead the way. Side by side, he and Fran followed the youngest of their own personal trio. His lips twitched at the thought.

_Always in threes, Harry? It's a powerful number in magic, you know. _Hermione's voice sang out from Harry's past. He shoved away memory-Hermione.

"Hey, how about we to go to the Strahl for a quick shower?" Harry said as they entered the Southern Plaza of Rabanastre.

"Very well," Balthier acquiesced. "Fran?"

The Viera tilted her head a little. "Yes, we are filthy." She smirked when the blond twitched and opened his mouth to speak. "And no, you may not join us."

"Piffle! I wasn't going to ask that!" the younger sky-pirate proclaimed.

"Liar," Harry laughed as they made their way to the West Gate that contained the Aerodome.

000

The pirates were sitting in the pub called the Sandsea when a blue Bangaa burst in and loped up the stairs. The bipedal reptilian was practically foaming at the mouth, a piece of parchment clutched in his three-fingered hand. Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach. And he was right. They listened as the Bangaa, named Migelo who was proprietor of the potions shop at the farthest end of East End, railed against them about a girl being kidnapped. The wizard sighed, remembering the young blonde girl who had tried to reach their wayward thief through the Imperial soldiers. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Vaan burst in much in the same way as Migelo with Basch right behind him. The squalling increased in volume. Demands for rescue were made from all sides. And then Vaan offered up the Goddess' Magicite that he had nicked from under the pirates' noses as an offering for passage. Harry and Fran exchanged a look and then turned their gazes to the amused Balthier. They silently communicated with raised eyebrows and subtle facial expressions for a few moments.

"The gods toy with us," Fran grumbled in acquiescence. She shook her head, her long ears twitching. At that the trio stood and began walking down the steps.

"Best ready yourselves. We leave in an hour." Balthier threw over his shoulder at the grinning Vaan.

000

"Rescuing damsels in distress and ferrying about dead men. What have we come to, Balthier?" Harry grumbled from his spot in the co-pilot's seat. His sure hands flew over the dials as he readied for take-off. It was Fran's turn in the Strahl's engine room with Nono the Moogle, so he was in the cockpit.

"Hey!" Vaan's outburst was ignored.

"Well, we wouldn't want to ruin our reputation. Our course?" Balthier checked over his own controls with an experienced eye, his own elegant hands steady.

"Shortest way? Or shall we go the scenic route?" Harry snarked.

"Now, now, so grumpy. Shortest, of course. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can wipe our hands clean of the whole thing."

"Over Dorstonis, then."

"How flies Bhurjerba?" Basch asked from his seat behind the younger sky-pirate.

"Free as can be, for now." The blond man flicked a few switches and the glossair rings whirled to life, lighting up. "However, the Archadian Empire certainly sat up in notice when they announced the Princess' suicide and _your_ untimely execution."

"If it becomes known that I am indeed alive, the Marquis would lose the Empire's favor."

"Vayne Solidor is a clever man," Harry piped in, flicking Vaan in the forehead when the teen hovered too closely. His bright green gaze pinned Basch down. "If your brother is, indeed, under his command, then it was the Imperial Prince's idea to hold your living status over the Marquis' head. Quite a mess." He turned back to his controls. "Ready."

"Yes, well, we as a whole try to avoid such things," Balthier said. "Time to fly. And no wagging your tongues until after we take off. Likely to bite clear through them otherwise." With that, the sky-pirate hovered his ship straight up as the dome opened overhead.

And then the Strahl took off through the skies like a bullet through a gun barrel.

000

"Have you noticed, that even on a sky-continent, we always end up underground?" Harry said to Fran as they ran from Ba'Gamnan and his siblings. The wizard, like his Viera lover, hadn't even broken a sweat even with all of the fighting and general running around they had done to get through the Lhusu Mines. Next to them were Basch and Balthier, both of whom seemed amused at the brunet's grumbling. They listened as Harry continued his diatribe. "I mean, look at us! We're running around in sewers, caves, and dungeons. I'm heartily sick of it. I want some sunshine. I want the skies! What kind of sky-pirate puts himself beneath the earth?"

"Our kind," Fran replied. Her lips twitched in amusement at the mock look of betrayal thrown her way. "You just enjoy complaining."

"You caught me." Harry wagged his eyebrows at her and then looked at Basch. "How are you holding up there, dead man?" Balthier snorted and the wizard elbowed him.

Basch glared at the two male sky-pirates. "I am not dead," he huffed. "Though I could do with more exercise, apparently." Trickles of sweat were pouring down from his temples, a light flush staining his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "Not there was any to be had, hanging over an oubliette." His voice was sardonic.

"True," Balthier agreed. "Ah, it seems that we've lost our Bangaa pursuers." The four slowed down to match their paces with the slightly slower Vaan. "Vaan, if you want to be a sky-pirate, you must keep up with the rest of us." He grinned at the frustrated look on the thief's face.

"Whatever," Vaan puffed out. He hunched over, bracing his hands on his bent knees. "Ugh… thought we'd never lose 'em."

"Hmph. And our purpose for being beneath rock and stone wasn't even here to be rescued. And we lost that little, high-heel wearing bratling." Harry glared at Balthier. "This is your fault."

"My dear Hadrian, you always say it's my fault," Balthier said cheerfully. He gestured toward the entrance of the mines. "Let's go and leave this place. I need another bath…"

000

PART THREE: _Lost Kingdoms_

Jagd, Harry hated it. Sky stone didn't work in Jagd, which meant there was no flying over it. No wonder Raithwall's Tomb hadn't been raided yet. There were also the rumors of a great beast guarding the entrance. Undefeatable, they say. The wizard-mage snorted at the thought. Nothing was unbeatable, just difficult to kill. But back to the Jagd… He was a sky-pirate, grounded because of some mad quest led by a power-hungry, revenge-obsessed princess. Who was supposed to be dead. What was it with the dead people here on Ivalice? They couldn't stay that way, either by faking their death (on purpose or not was a moot point) or by zombies in Mist enriched environments filled with dead bodies. Well, undead bodies to be specific.

Damn, Harry's concentration was shot to hell.

The brunet took down another Urutan-Yensa with a smack of his Pole. It let out a garbled sound and died at his feet. Without blinking, Harry went after the next little crab-like humanoid that was barreling straight for him. These little buggers were irritating, especially with their Sleep Spells. But because he was a wizard-born, he was naturally immune to nearly all status magicks here on Ivalice. Elementals spells on the other hand hurt like a bitch. Win some, lose some, he supposed. He absentmindedly flicked one of his spare daggers at the Urutan that was casting at young Penelo. The blade buried itself between the being's beady eyes and it died, slumping into a pile of exoskeleton and rags. The young blonde girl shouted a thanks and dove back into the fray. Soon enough there were no Urutan-Yensa surrounding them for the moment, allowing for a breather. Harry fetched his dagger. He wiped it clean on the dead crab-man's clothes and tucking it into his custom-made holster hidden on his left forearm opposite of his wand holster on his right. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. Harry swiped at it in annoyance.

"Are we there yet?" Harry complained loudly. He grinned at the glares shot his way by Miss-Priss-Princess and Mr. Uptight-I-wear-heavy-armor-in-the-desert.

"No, Hadrian, we aren't there yet," Balthier called out, snickering from the opposite end of their somewhat scattered group. He slowly herded the two younger members of their group over for a huddle. The younger sky-pirate beckoned the snooty princess and her captains over. Fran gracefully strode along with him to stand next to Harry. Balthier smiled at the couple and then addressed everyone. "I believe we are close though." He pointed over to the west, a ragged piece of parchment dug out from his side-pouch was in his other hand. "One more section, at least according to the map of the Nam-Yensa Sandsea that Hadrian managed to find."

"Potter luck, you know," the brunet wizard piped in.

"Quite," the younger pirate said. "From here we go into the Trail of Fading Warmth and then beyond we hope is Raithwall's Tomb."

"Oh joy," Harry muttered to Fran. The Viera shrugged at him and nudged the wizard along as the odd group walked on. "When can we go flying again?"

Fran snorted.

000

As Belias the Gigas fell and a crystal formed in mid-air, Harry immediately dropped to the ground and started rolling around in an effort to put out the last flames burning on his clothes. "STOP! DROP! ROLL!" he wailed. Everyone else stared at him as he hopped back up with a wide, slightly maniacal grin on his face. "Man, I always wanted to do that,"

"I… see." Balthier looked nonplussed by the other man's display. He looked at Fran, as if to say 'your lover is a mad-man'. The Viera quirked an eyebrow in return, clearly stating with her expression, 'no duh'. The blond sky-pirate shook his head and turned toward Princess Ashelia, otherwise known as Amalia from previously but now called Ashe for short. "So where is that treasure you promised us?" he asked.

"Yeah? Where is it?" Harry demanded, no longer in a joking mood. "Was that being guarding it?"

"Don't you see?" Ashe said in reverent tones. "The Esper is Raithwall's treasure." She went on to tell the story of Raithwall and his Esper and how the treasure was the power granted from the Gigas; it was altogether boring in Harry's opinion. His lips thinned and he tried to lighten his own mood.

"Sooo… does that mean you're not going to pay us then?" the wizard asked. He struggled to keep his irritation to himself.

"Pirate scum," Vossler muttered. He recoiled when the wizard-mage swung his intense green gaze upon him.

"Better to be a pirate-scum who is honest about what I am and what I want than to be a self-righteous, cock-sucking fucker like you!" Harry snarled. Balthier and Fran didn't even blink at the show of temper. The others flinched at the foul language spewing from the wizard-mage's mouth. "Here I am, running around like some collared dog at your dead princess' beck and call but you dare to insult us?" His accent deepened and became a drawl. A hint of Scottish burr made its appearance as well. To Basch it sounded like Harry was from the Highlands of Landis, which was shocking to him. "Who do you think you are, you feckin' arse-kisser? Thinkin' yer better than us just because yer a knight? Ha! Knight to a fallen kingdom, what use are you?" The black-haired Dalmascan was shocked as more vitriol fell from those full lips. The stone beneath their feet trembled and Mist swirled around the wizard. The knight slumped in standing gratitude when the Viera finally decided to step in, pressing her body against her life's partner.

"Ease yourself, mine heart-chosen," Fran said softly. She carded her long fingers through Harry's messier than usual hair. A soothing hum rose from her throat. Harry pressed his forehead against the slope of her slender shoulder. His arms wound around her waist and the couple swayed a little. The others, thoroughly embarrassed except for a leering Balthier, turned away to give them the semblance of privacy. "You are tired, we know this. The sky calls for you but you cannot heed her cries whilst beneath stone and Mist."

"I'm tired of saving the world," Harry mumbled against her soft skin. The rest of their group, thankfully, could not hear their conversation. "This business of fallen kingdoms and warring empires… it's madness that I want no part of, Fran. M'tired of war. Have been for a long time. Just wanna fly."

"I fear that we cannot escape it, my Harry," the Viera replied in his ear. "We are in too deep already. The gods sent you here for a reason."

"You think this is it?"

"Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not."

Harry and Fran held each other tight for a few moments more.

_**00000**_

**END**

And we're into the FFXII game now! I'll be splitting the events of the game into other one-shots. I don't know how many though. Lol, I didn't mean to end it on such a serious note. Harry's a little frustrated, right now though. He has no patience for idiots. As you can tell I'm not too fond of Ashe or Vossler either. This is also shorter than the first one, sorry about that. Anyway, I'm going to start on the next one-shot but expect another big time-jump between this and the new one.

Laterz! XD

PS: Also, for my slash-readers, shout out for my LJ; there's FFVII/HP slash smut to be had! The Seph/Harry one is split into two entries, though. Just saying…


End file.
